FINDING FRIENDSHIP

The love of a near stranger makes him no longer unknown.

He looks into my eyes, reaches forward, truly listens, makes me talk. I haven't always done this, but I don't know that this matters anymore. All he knows is that I have something to say and he wants to engage me, my mind being his treasure box. He makes me wonder if God is like this, leaning forward, as I move closer to put my ear closer to hear His sweet voice, telling me secrets, not thinking of yesterday. And I am grateful that this man, made by this same God, can listen with the deepest part of him. I have long waited for this.

Long loneliness makes us excited to speak words that are no longer merely thoughts rehearsed in quiet rooms where we live. I find myself wanting to touch his soul with my words. How often have women wanted to do just this? We, the breathing sensitive to the muscled strength, are just profound people simply wanting love. Simple. Wanting love to wrap us up in the physical as God (if we are opened to our Creator) wraps us in His arms. Wanting to be listened to. There is always silence when only the physical body, that one day will return to dust, is the only desired thing. The people must search deeper, the Holy God whispers. The deep calleth unto the deep. The box the deep is treasured in must be opened and laid aside. Then love.

We talk and my soul breathes a sigh of relief. I am not alone. He is not a figment of imagination as he speaks words I have long imagined would be spoken. I have written of moments like this. And he is fulfilling it.

Does friendship turn to love turn to the demand for an eternal response? The desire sparks the romance of the infinitesmal...words spoken in a bookstore cafe...in a gold car...at water's edge...all turn my heart from stone to flesh. This is what God promised. He said that He would change my heart of stone to a heart of flesh. He did not imply that it would be the unseen spiritual only. He can use what and who he will to push the blood through this temporary body, housing spirit ("a spiritual being having a natural experience," the man sitting across from me sings in his beautiful, jazz voice declaring what I have long believed). It happened this way: I felt it beating inside my chest again, once stilled when death stole. Here, I am awaking from loneliness' hibernation, because he - the sent one, apostle of my heart - has learned to listen when he was not heard.

I cannot believe that he does not want to lift that voice in front of others, but I do believe that there is no need for the diamond sitting before me to be broken in pieces and sold. He has been broken enough. He wants only to write. To write the new song of the Lord. To give those vocalized harmonies of Heaven away so others can tap into the unseen spiritual and be healed; I want him to. I desperately need him to write worship with a pen of iron drilling the words eternal into stone - the Ten Commandments, the King's Decree, Jesus finger writing in the dirt as prideful men try to kill sin's victim. I am desperate for his song. He only sings briefly, this song not his, and I close my eyes - forgetting where I am - pretending that he is crooning his own worship.

How beautiful the thought is that his healed heart would sing gratitude to his Healer.

My spirit reaches for his, saying softly feminine: "Write here." Take this moment and write down what you hear for you do hear. You do.

Maybe that is why I am here...sitting here...finding friendship as it finds me, as God finds me, loves me through this experience too. I think of him who I lost, this time last year, weeping for his return that will never happen here. I wonder if he prayed for this when he stared into my eyes before saying goodbye. I felt him praying, hoping for me that I will never be alone again after those final tears were shed. I feel him talking about me in Heaven as I mention his name on earth. Did he pray that I would be found?

You learn more than you think you do when your heart is broken. You learn each part of it, as it is gently put back together by the Creator's hands. Each part is taken gently in universe-holding hands and delicately reformed, transformed. The glue He uses to seal my heart is the revelationd (the light revealing light) that I, once invisible, am seen in illumination, and that quanitfyingly brings me to a place of wanted inspection. I am standing here, nothing to hide, not hidden, revealed again. God uncovers my position to the one sent to find me. And since the last time, I let eyes stare into my soul without turning away from the gaze looking deeper, I want to be found.

I listen, nod, watch his eyes, and see the fire as he says what he has only told God in the quiet. He knows me, though he just learned my name. I am his friend first. I am his friend. How often can this be said?

Looking for Grace

In the midst of starting over, from a place I've been but haven't appreciated, I realized that there is still a lot I don't know. When you close your eyes and mind and soul down because you think you already have all the answers you keep yourself from what God desires for you to have. I have lived many years in this same location, seven to be exact, with my eyes closed and my heart disillusioned to what life really is and what it has to be in order for me to move forward. To live life fully in a place you did not plan to be is only difficult when you refuse to be pliable, to change, to bend with what God is saying for your life.

One of my favorite Christian Declarative songs is by the David Crowder Band. A line in "How He Loves" says this: "And He is jealous for me...Loves like a hurricane and I am a tree...Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy...When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions...Eclipsed by glory and I realize just how beautiful You are...And how great are Your affections for me..."

This song has been an anthem of grace for me...as I have been steadily looking for grace in the place where I am...this most unconventional place. You have to change your perspective to truly understand why you are in any given place at any given moment. There is no happenstance; there is no irony in God. He does not perform the miraculous in a haphazard way. Everything He does is deliberate and on purpose. I am learning every day that I too must take every step, appreciate every opportunity to grow, and look into the eyes of the people that cross my path with a God-smile on purpose, purposefully. As I am learning that grace is dangerous and delicious at the same time, that it is not a way to tie a bow on top of the gift that life is, I realize that like the words in this song, these words that are speaking of epiphany and discovery, my life is not meant to be lived in an aura of dissatisfaction with what God has given.

Like a little girl that receives something for Christmas she does not realize is something infinitely more valuable than the candy or toy or temporary distraction she had hoped for, I can hear the voice of my grandmother (whom believed in giving thanks no matter what) insisting: "Say thank you, MyMy."

God has given me His love in a way that says I either must surrender to it or be snapped in half at the weight of it. I have to not only bask in it for my own delight and be changed by it, but in order to get the full effect of it, I must take it in and then pour it out into the life of another. The ready ones have their hands cupped, waiting for me to give uniquely from me what God has prepared. I am learning this in a place God never said I would have to stay in to get the eternal necessities I was missing. He did not tell me all of the story; He just tolerated my anxiety when I realized the bottom was dropping out from under my plans. He did not warn me ahead of time that I better get confortable because my life would be starting over here - not because the life I had back home was so horrible, but because in the place of conformity and comfort I was the all sufficient one in my own mind and God Himself was an afterthought. He had other plans and I had the ones I thought were better.

But now...as I bend and sway to His will and open my eyes to His reality and Who He is, receiving and giving my all now instead of holding back, I know that there is nothing better than NOW and HERE and THIS.

Today is all that there is for me and that is simply enough. My hands do not have the capability to get all I need to have. I was not and will never be the One that blesses me with all these good things that come from the Father of Lights. The ability for an "ex nihilo" creation rests solely in Him. This jealous God who refuses to let me be a victim of my own sinfulness and selfishness and sadness loves me right out of myself. That is grace...real grace that reaches into the monuments I have built out of temporary moments and temporary people and temporary situations, as if He could never meet me here.. as if He could never wrap Himself in flesh again, incarnationally showing up. This too is grace...unconventional and freeing in an unexpected way: finally knowing that He can and He will and He does bless, create out of nothing, rescues, and then finally wraps Himself inside the answers to my needs.

Sometimes you realize this on the way, on the journey, when life reinvents itself and grace transforms your eyesight and not the thing you are looking at. I have taken the road less traveled this time. I am made new. I am learning to look for the grace in the eyes of others.

I saw grace yesterday. He had the most beautiful eyes and a Southern accent and a peace that drew me in. I saw grace yesterday when he told me about the life he was living, the way it was enough and the way it couldn't be enough forever because he feels the desire for more driving him closer to God. I saw grace when this beautiful man tried to cover up his beauty, until he was comfortable enough to reveal what others do not ordinarily see - his poetic soul. He had the most beautiful smile and the God shining through it reached out and removed the scales from my eyes. I am not caring about the way life can be shaped by the tangible when the intangible is so much more valuable; I am no longer disillusioned by the flesh that we exist in. It's just the fabric the treasure is wrapped in. Yesterday, I saw the diamond shining from within this one God had graced me to meet. God showed me His grace in this one that did not even recognize that the glory of God inside him was blinding me.

I once was blind to my surroundings and what is here that God wants to use to impact me and change me...and also those people and places and things that are to be impacted by me and changed by me, by these hands newly anointed to be like God's but are not God's. I once was blind to grace, but now I see. Now I see more than I ever could before, with God's glory blinding every part of the vision and overtaking it. I looked for grace, not love - as it has always been here. I am no longer looking for the love I think I want and have designed in my own mind as an unholy conglomeration of hodge-podge memories that have nothiong to do with God at all. And really God really is all I am seeking for...looking for...grasping for...and it doesn't matter where I land. I'll still be looking for Him, seeking Him out, delirious for His grace-touch again.

Grace is a discovery that can be found over and over again. There is never enough of it...and the places we think God does not exist or has given up on are most likely overflowing with grace. I cup my hands and try to hold on to it, even as it overflows me. I open my eyes and look for it...and all of a sudden, I am unaware of the afflictions I once believed existed here in this place. I am unaware of anything but the gorgeous freedom of living life with eyes wide open now.

Lessons From Unlikely Places

It is colder outside than it has been in awhile. It is really unbelievable how strange it is to see the weather flip so drastically from 90 degrees Monday, May's Memorial Day, to 60 (maybe) five days later. I am a girl that pays attention to what is going on in the physical and spiritual atmosphere around me, and I really miss very little when change is in the air - even down to the drastic nuances of sky, air, temperature, rain. These nuances and annoyances are in the atmosphere today.

This year has taught me how important it is to pay attention, not to live a blind life,not to live one day without learning the lesson for that day, not to let the people He has brought into our lives pass us by unaffected by us - us, unaffected by them. I can't think I have all the answers; but one of the people that walks quietly past me does, and it is my responsibilty to dig into their hearts, minds, souls until I get from them what I need for my spirit. Then I can give it back. I have to seek out the answers to questions my heart continues to ask from different sources and get out of my own head - even if those answers come from the most unlikely of sources.

Tonight I am going to grab my pen and notebook, asking "life questions" of two of the most phenomenal individuals I have ever met. The one I met at five years old, brilliant and beautiful and briefly confused about what family meant. She knows now, I think, that sometimes (most times) family is built from the brick and mortar of hard, cemented love chiseled open with consistent and deliberate hammering. She also knows that building a life is equally as difficult sometimes, when you don't know what acceptance will do to you or lack of acceptance will do to the other person. But she is building something, and for just tonight I want her to take her hardhat off, turn the jackhammer off, slow her pace for a moment, and show me the blueprint of who she is now - now that she is not 5 anymore and is living every bit of a 19-year-old life.

The second is every bit the baby boy I saw lying on his maternal grandmother's couch, covered in a thin hospital blanket, a week after he entered our world and turned it upside down. But he is also more. It is amazing to me that he can be both a newborn, a three year old, a ten year old, and now...a 17 year old, all at the same time. His perfection lies in his imperfections - the recognition of them, the internal work it takes to see them and use them as life lessons, the maturity it takes to acknowledge need for God when the imperfections threaten to mar one's intrinsic view of self. God never intended that we see ourselves as anything other than loved by Him, so he is learning this, and I want to know how he feels about it so I will know how I should feel about it, too. He has an amazing mind, full of questions and answers, thoughts and ideas about what his manhood will be (is already). I look up to him, in more ways than one. As one of a handful of men in my life, I want to hear his masculine opinion about my feminine reality. It is no matter that I changed his diapers; that he slept many nights as an infant and toddler on my chest listening to heartbeat as the life in my veins coursed through to a peaceful rhythym - a lullaby for him to dream sweet baby dreams to; that his dance, gorgeous toothless smile,and conversation was sadly oft misunderstood. Until I really learned to watch his movements hands lifted and tears streaming down in reckless abandon to God, learned to open my soul and smile in freedom when his face beamed sunshine in my direction, and learned to listen closer to the words that he was learning to speak into the atmosphere of his world so I could speak words of newness into mine).

I got up this morning, at first worried about the weather outside, so cold and gloomy for the drive I must take this afternoon; at first worried that my income tax had not hit my bank account and knowing that I needed to provide these dear ones a good time away for this weekend where money would be no object. I awoke concerned that my dog wouldn't go to the bathroom outside because he hates being cold and wet, both of which were more than likely to happen - as silly as that sounds. I was fretting about whether I should take the little buddy with me today, not thinking that on the way back from picking up my teachers this weekend, none of that will matter. My prince and princess will be riding in that with us car...these ones that will lighten the heaviness of being alone, of having so many questions and no answers, of wishing life were different and I was loved just a little bit more in a tangible way.

These two have been royalty in my eyes for nearly two decades - great big gifts from a great big God, remarkable that He would love me that much to bless me to know them. I have adored them forever, or at least, since the evidence was verified. And today, instead of trying to teach them a little bit more about life, I want what they came here to give me.

The wise men came to Bethlehem to honor baby Jesus at His birth; the great intellectual and spiritual giants in the temple sat at Jesus' 12-year-old feet. When He became an adult, after all that, He told the disciples (us) that when we show compassion and love to the least of these we show that to Him. Sometimes, as I have learned lately, showing love and compassion is not just providing physical provisions, but giving others the permission to be themselves and then honoring them, treating them as experts in the lives they know, in the things they feel most passionate about, and in the lessons they are learning and need to teach others in order to get through completely the dark places, the hard times, the pain that is unescapable.

Jesus expressed that if we accept and open ourselves to the Kingdom of God like a little child, like these that are not often asked opinions about life but actually do have ideas that could be the answers we adults are searching for, we will be ourselves accepted in the Beloved deeply. He blessed and divided the lunch of a child with thousands of people gathered to hear Him; He fed them as He fed others when He was considered insignificant and in need of tutelage. He fed them from the lunch pail of a child that had the sense enough to bring something to eat physically while being fed spiritually. The people, hungry and needing nourishment, did not reject what healed them. When you need to eat, it doesn't matter whose lunch pail your next meal comes from. I would say it is even more delicious when that meal comes from the most unlikely of sources.

How much more, if we read of His impact in that world, will we learn to value the lives of these younger ones - like the two that will grace my home this weekend? The deeper lesson that Jesus was teaching, I think, is the one I learned this morning, as I wrestled with adult issues and trying to figure out how things were going to run smoothly, worried that things would go wrong in my striving to make everything perfect (a fruitless endeavor).

Of course, the people in Jesus' day could legitimately hope to sit at His feet when He was an adult and learn the lessons of life. He had the Bread of Life; He was that Bread, that Wine, that Healing. But there were some who came before it was socially acceptable or expected for the people to learn there - to sit and kneel and learn at His feet when those feet could fit neatly in the palms of worn and long-lived adult hands. He was that fulfillment for men's bodies and souls wrapped in a package that could be easily overlooked because of the unexpected presentation. There were many learned men gathered in the temple sitting at Jesus' 12-year-old feet some years later answering His questions, yes, but learning and listening too. (This would be similar to a child being in the White House or in front of Congressmen today, asking questions and teaching all these learned policymakers and adults holding sway over governmental authority, since the temple was the place of religious and political decision-making for the Jews).

The Lord's sweet epiphany this morning, even as I considered the whys of life during my time with Him, gave revelation that I will need to sit and learn from the ones that have been gifts to my world. He gave them to me, as His Father gave Him to us. I can learn from them, even as in my young adulthood I desired to learn from those older than me in places of leadership and authority that should have given me what was needed and what I was sometimes silently begging for since I knew that period wouldn't last forever. I was and am ultimately left me wanting. This too was one of my wrestlings this morning. Why couldn't those I respected as mentors really and truly mentor me? Why did I feel like I had been cheated, when those lessons needed to be learned, had to be learned, before I had to be the one being asked for direction and now cannot ever be retaught in the same format with the same people? Who was to help me now?

This afternoon, I will be going to pick up those assigned to teach me, the ones that I thought I had taught about life. I must treat them like the professionals, the intellectuals, the skilled ones that they are; yes, they will learn more as life goes on. Yes, I will help them navigate the terrain of adulthood. We will build each other up toward destiny's fulfillment. The problem is, I thought my job was only to teach, lead, guide, direct them so that they will be successful as adults. I thought their only job was to listen to me.

I was so wrong. Thank God that He can change my pliable heart.

But now...today...I realize that there are times when I have questions, and I need to listen to them, too. They are already successful, despite the messy, crazy world they have been born into. They have knowledge of this world that I did not have to know at their age. This is their world, their time, their generation, and I need them to show me how to live in a place, a time, a season made more for them than for me. I want to know how they feel about life now.

I will learn this weekend..."Auntie Mom" fed by her babies...

Abbreviated Love Story: Heart Ponderings of the Year After

My second book was officially published on March 30, 2012 and I have had several awaiting friends and fans requesting copies. This book is a beautiful memento of love, the love I had for the man that stole my heart and took it with him to Heaven. The pictures are phenomenal, taken by two of the most passionate photographers I have had the pleasure of working with. The book is quite expensive to purchase as a coffee table, adult picture book, so I have significantly reduced prices for those who want to order from me. I am hoping that the other online bookstores and book distributors will sell it for a much more reasonable price than what the publisher is proposing. Really, I am praying that the book will reach whoever it is meant to, just like the last one because the writing of it was not about the money I could make off my own misery. If that's the case, there really no point in writing it. I would have much rather have kept my hurt to myself. But the point is that I want the world to know that while I know what it's like to be hurt, I also know what it's like to be healed. Beautiful words should never be expensive. Pictures of my life are a glimpse into my heart. The world me that keeps spinning without him is immersed in grace despite the pain that spins within it. I went to the Calvin College's Festival of Faith and Writing almost two weeks ago. It was not like other years - seemed a lot lonelier in the sense that there were fewer people of color in attendance and fewer presenters of diversity than in previous. I tried not to focus on how isolating it was being in a place that I love to be. Things felt so strange to me...and then, I sat in on Ann Voskamp's presentation. Tears streamed down face as she talked about the prophetic qualities that make poetry so different from traditional prose. When she talked about embracing grace and giving thanks as a way of life, a way of speaking prophetically poetic even when the heart is broken, I knew that this was why I had come. I needed someone to affirm for me the joy in life when the sadness in death is the background of my painting, the hidden themes of my poetry, the echo of the songs playing in my ear when words and pictures are no longer enough. There is always grace to be found and when it is found, it is ENOUGH. I tried to wipe the tears as quickly as they spilled from eyes. While I wiped at them, the salty wetness slipped over my fingers, refusing to absorb into my skin as if they had never been. The tears slipped between my fingers and finally I gave up. These grace tears would not be denied or hidden quality in the palm of my hands. They would drip down like rain. I thought of my book. I thought of the main character of the book - love personified in me, in him that is no longer here. And love leaked out of my eyes, not able to be contained. Tears streaming down. Breathing between the sighs. Sunshine at nighttime, moon peering at me through the curtains that shield the world out. Memories of what can never be. Pages that can only tell my story because he cannot write his part...an unfinished publication.

Ready to Vacate

I have decided that while I will pay off the debt I owe, I will also begin traveling and enjoying life just a little bit more. I have vacations or time off from work coming up nearly every month of 2012, and to be honest I am really proud of myself. I have put in a lot of work at my job, and I want to enjoy the opportunity to spend more time with the people I love rather than working just to pay bills.

My first planned break is coming up in a couple short weeks, April 19 - 21st. Every other year I attend the Calvin College Festival of Faith and Writing. I have been going to this event since 2004. I love being in an environment with people that love to write, love to read, and love to be with others who also enjoy the same. I live for moments like this. I can remember in times past meeting or seeing authors whose works have now become a staple to my literary diet - like Shauna Niequist and Lauren Winner. I am looking forward to seeing Shane Claiborne, Jamaal May, and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie this year. The festival lasts for three days and by the time it ends, I feel like I have just taken a breath of fresh air.

My next break will be my church's annual retreat, in early May. The Revolution Christian Ministries' retreat this year will be at Gull Lake Bible Camp and Conference Center. I love going to this retreat because it reminds me of my teen years of spiritual retreats with the same pastor that oversees my growth and development now. I learn more about God and myself when I am away from life as I know it and have grown accustomed to. I enjoy being near water, be a lake or a river, because here too, I feel refreshed and energized. The retreat only requires an open heart and mind to receive from God. It also requires an open spirit not bogged down with the things of this world that can distract away from worshipping our Creator. I can hardly wait to get away for a little while. This lasts for three days too.

In June I will be taking some time with my niece, Erika. I haven't learned how to navigate seeing my babies being adults or almost adults. I am so used to seeing my nieces and nephews all the time. Yet, the older they get I feel the stretch that often comes when children become adults, responsible for their own lives. It is difficult sometimes, and sometimes, I don't like it. But I respect the process, and when there is an opportunity to spend time with one or all of them, I eat it up like Thanksgiving Dinner. She will be spending a weekend with me where I live, and I am planning to take time off from work to have that one-on-one time that I need too.

In July, I will be flying to Atlanta to see one of my older brothers. He and I met when I was 25, as was detailed in my book Father to the Fatherless. He and I developed a close relationship over these last 9 years, and I look forward to seeing him whenever I can. We are making plans for me to spend the week of July 4th in Atlanta with him. I haven't been to Atlanta since I was 16. I am quite sure he will show me all the sights and sounds. He enjoys having a great time and I have no doubt that this will be like many of my other occasions hanging out with my big brother. The only nervousness I have is with flying alone but I am quite sure I will be fine.

In August I will take a few days off to just chillax near either Lake Huron or Lake Michigan. I enjoy being off with nothing major planned too.

In September, I will not take any time off (I don't think). In October I will take my birthday and the day after off since to me it IS a National Holiday.

In November, my last travel month of the year, I am taking my mom on a five day cruise either to the Southern Caribbean or to the Bahamas. My aunt and my cousin are also planning on coming. I want to celebrate my mom's 63rd birthday in style. Hopefully everything will come together soon.

So, those are my plans and I can't wait to start being more active in life, rather than just sitting around complaining that I never have anything fun to do. I just have to make it happen.

Abbreviated Love Story: Heart Ponderings of the Year After

I decided to write a book the day our story ended. This man that changed my perspective and turned my world upside down, is now the main feature and a silent main character in my new book. I won't give much about the book away but I decided after much deliberation that I had to tell another story about the life I am living now and the impact his presence in my world made.

I have two amazing photographers that worked with me on this book and I have to say that this book would be just another written work that would leave the reader wondering what the characters looked like, felt like, etc. But God really impressed on me to utilize the visual representation through art and music how my life was transformed. The impact was felt in more than a verbal or literary way. The impact was felt in what I saw, what I listened to, and where I went. I wanted all of it documented. It is more than a book of essays.

It is a road map to a a journey we all at one point or another have to embark upon when faced with the loss of someone we love.

The Photographer

Last night I sat down with one of the most creative and amazing photographers that I have had the benefit of meeting and getting to know. I have seen him around town, taking pictures at various events and parties, and I wondered who he really was and where he had really come from. I mean, yes, we all come from a physical place. We are all born somewhere after being conceived like every other human that has walked the earth. But the part of us that is not created from dividing cellular molecules, is the part that is birthed somewhere else, truly conceived in the mind and heart of God.

What part of God did he come from?

Then I attended a Photo Party, invited by a friend of mine, and he was the photographer. Of course, I knew that, as the friend that invited me is his cousin. I knew that he would be taking the pictures of the women that were there, hoping to feel beautiful for just one night.

I went and participated in what was probably the best night I'd had in a long time. I did feel physically beautiful. There was a professional make-up artist, all kinds of backdrops and chairs, poses and lights. I felt like a model (albeit, a plus sized model), and the pictures turned out gorgeous. While taking pictures was great, I was more interested in seeing the man behind that camera. I took the opportunity at that event to get to know him. I had made a declaration that I would not let another chance to meet and get to know amazing people slip by me. I had done that already and paid a great price for it that I can never undo. That is the point of the third book that I am getting ready to publish, but I will get into that in a later post.

I met with him last night, a couple weeks after the party, to discuss a proposal for a photography session for said book, and we ended up talking for a little more than two hours about art and writing, his career as a photographer and my career as a social worker/writer/artist. I was able to pick his brains about his "obsession" as he called it and now I have dubbed it. He is obsessed with taking pictures, capturing moments, making art. When I thought about what he does in relation to what I do as a writer and an artist, I am so totally not where I should be in terms of emotional investment.

I think I have lost that "thing" that made the magic come alive. I have been too busy trying to subdue the creativity within.

His very words of calling what he does an obsession challenged me to take a look again at what used to be my heartbeat, my breath, my life. I was a girl that never went a day without writing or drawing something just because. I did not go without reading a book, getting lost in words and imagination. I sang every day. I looked for the poem in the mundane. I sought out the music in the mediocre.

He said he has an obsession.

I am just starting to wake up to the real identity of who I am meant to be. I am meant to be obsessed with something greater than myself - first starting with God and then ending with the purpose He put inside me to make a lasting impression in the universe. What's the point of living if you never leave a mark? What's the point of inhaling and exhaling if no one knows you have creative breath in your body? Your whole existence breathes when you create something, when you pour out of yourself, when you manifest the dream of what God intended.

The book I read during my time with God this morning talked about purpose, about staying within God's purpose for my life no matter what. I thought I was obsessive about the written word, about drawing for the sake of feeling the pencil slide across the manila paper, about sculpting clay into beauty. I think now I was only obsessive about talking about it and had shied away from actually jumping in so deep that wave after wave after wave of God's creativity washes over me again.

I was not getting up and going out to see the sunrise, just to take the newness and transform it into a poem or a painting. I was not pulling over to the side of the road to capture the essence of the scenery that demands that I stop and take pause at the world God has created for us to enjoy. I was not stopping the work of getting through the dangerous monotony of JUST making the donuts, JUST earning money to pay bills, JUST tolerating life while knowing life is really just passing me by. I was not doing the very thing that made my childhood fertile soil for growing up - those things that kept me alive when everything around me was dying.

He said he has an obsession.

He said he has to take pictures. Sometimes he gets tired of taking pictures of people, so he has the inner discipline (I believe) to always pay attention to what is going on around him. He isn't just hustling this thing - making money or rather letting the money make him. That would cause him to lose the "thing" that is giving him the motivation to lift that camera one more time. He is becoming who he always was, even when he didn't know it. But God knew it. And now he is flowing in it.

We are all blessed because of it.

So what part of God is he?

If we are part of Him, created in His image, then we bring a special part of Him with us when we grace this earth with our physical presence. This photographer is the part of God that is so needed in this earth.

He is the part of God that sees what is deeper than the superficial reality we all co-exist in. He has God's eyes. He looks at the forms around him - human, animal, plant - sometimes clothed in the finest of coverings and sometimes in the rawest of forms and captures it all before it escapes back into the matrix. Those eyes pull out the details of raw emotion - fear, anger, sadness, hurt and transform them into the beauty, truth, joy, and grace we overlook. Sometimes, it is too much to look at; most of the time you fall right in to the vision as he sees it.

I like that he is not able to confine himself into a mode of being just one kind of photographer. His dexterity with the camera reminds me that artists, writers, musicians, and really any creative being cannot afford to be afraid in this day and age of being anything less than free in their craft and abilities. Our talk made me go home and re-think what I have allowed myself to be transformed into it.

I know how to DO creativity - put on that creative flair. But have I lost how to BE the very essence of spirit, of creativity? Have I lost me along the way, bordering the fence of true ability/raw talent and commercialism?

He HAS to capture the life that we all take for granted, so we will learn to look closer. I think deep within him is this passionate heartbeat for the mystery underlying the accepted fantasy we call living, and he has an eye that has always been able to REALLY see the things the rest of us have grown immune to.

I have no doubt that he will be able to make my book come alive, make my words spring to life. The pictures will tell the story of the words that tell the story of the life that is a living story written and read of men.

"And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness." Genesis 1:3-4

Five Years Later

Dear Dad Nichols:
Everything is so different now. I cannot believe I have not seen your face in five years. Life has continued on as if the world never stopped turning when you left that March afternoon. I am not sure of anything except that I wish you were still here. Your wife and daughters, your grandchildren and great-grandchildren have gone on but you are never far from their thoughts, their heartbeats, their longings. You are certainly never far from mine.

I wonder if you can see me. I wonder if you miss us too but just have a different perspective on everything, in a way that we don't have yet. I wonder if you are proud of me, of us, of the way we have not let your absence overwhelm us to the point where any of us have given up on life. There were days when your family members contemplated it. I saw them struggle through the loss of you in their world and prayed for them all. I want you to know that I have tried to stay present in their lives, never going far, though things have changed. Such is life.

There have been other losses that I am quite sure you are aware of since those who have gone after you are likely sitting right next to you in the grandstand of Heaven, worshipping the King with you, seeing the face of our Beloved Father. It has been immensely difficult to say goodbye to them as well. It was especially difficult for me to love and say goodbye to your brother...the man that held my heart in his hands. But we keep going. We endure because Jesus conquered the grave over 2000 years ago. It changes the end result, though our tears wet our faces today. One day all tears will be wiped away.

I believe that more than I've ever believed anything in my life.

But just so you know, five years later:

(1) Your wife has not aged. She looks like she's 38. Truly beautiful as she always was in your eyes and in all of our viewpoints. She is walking in her call in a way that has yet to be seen. She ministers to so many people, even through her own brokenness at times. I still admire her, as much as I did when I was "wet behind the ears", "with milk on my breath." I still think she is the most beautiful woman I have ever met.

(2) Your daughters are walking into their callings, despite the way life has tried them. They are learning more and more about God in the midst of the pain they fight through. They are still are my she-roes, just like your wife. They are my sisters and will always be. They couldn't get rid of me if they tried (and sometimes I think they have). I am going nowhere. So they can forget it. I love them too much.

(3) You have a beautiful 4 year old granddaughter that has won my heart in every way. She reminds me of you when she smiles. But she is so much like your wife with her charisma and charm. I cannot wait to see who she will be when she grows up.

(4) Your older grandchildren are becoming adults - more and more independent as the days pass. Nick is larger than life and is such a great man, a great father, a great son. He is striving to be more like you and one day he will be. He admired you so very much. Ari is a mommy and loves her baby more than her next breath. I watch her hold her girl in her arms and I hope one day to hold my own with as much love and protection as she exhibits. Brit is attending college and is finding out who she is as a woman, which is a joy to me as she steps into her future with the gait of a model. Donyell is graduating from high school this year. When I met you all she was only 3 years old and now I watch in awe as she conquers this world. She is destined to run something, to be in charge of something, to impact. Jalan, your best buddy, is a 10th grade football playing gentleman, that has grown up from being the baby to being a great young man. He still reminds me of your daughter...the boy version.

(5) I still live in Port Huron, though probably within 6 months I will be returning home to Grand Rapids where you found me one day - a sullen 19 year old, wondering what my life would turn into. I have written one book, in your memory. You were a great example of what a father is and I wanted the whole world to know that. My second one will be released in early summer.

(6) I work as a foster care worker and a licensing worker, impacting lives and watching mine change before my very eyes. I wish we could still talk about things like we used to. You listened to me and made me feel like my thoughts and my tears and my smiles mattered. I miss having a father in my life.

It was five years today since you went home to be with the Lord. Five years ago, you hugged Jesus as a Friend and Savior. I am so glad that you got to see Him and time has evaporated into eternity. I cannot wait to see Him myself, to see you again, to laugh with you again. Missing you has become the norm for us all now. I cannot say that this will change. You were so important to so many people, so many lives. You were important to me...you are important to me, five years later.

Thank you for still living in my memories.

I love you, Dad.

Mya-Mya

A LITTLE MORE OF THE JOURNEY SEEN

I have started a new position at my job and already I am loving it. I will be recruiting and teaching new potential foster parents how to minister to and love children in the child welfare system. For two years, I having worked as a foster care worker and got to know intimately what these children go through when they are taken from their parents. I have seen families reunified after the harsh realities that their lives need to change; I have seen children never return to their parents' homes because there was just no way the changes that needed to be made would ever be made. And now, I am working in a different aspect of the system, which was always my goal from day one. I never wanted to lose sight of the motivation to help heal families - not to primarily heal a system.

My job as a foster home licensing worker will serve to continue impacting lives which is the whole point of life, I think. Otherwise, why do anything? It is so easy to be selfish; I have been that and learned that I hate that feeling of self-worship. I want to be what I was born to be. I do feel more at peace with starting this part of my journey. Sometimes, you don't really know what you should do or where you are meant to go. I am beginning to have more faith in the process. I do feel that a little more of the map is being uncovered, a little more of my self-definition is coming to light (especially since I am not writing it).

I do not feel as lost in terms of what my purpose in life is.

That is so freeing...

2012

2012....Helloooo....how are you? Thank you for the new grace that a new year brings. I spend time this morning praying, repenting, and making plans to be the best version of Myowne that I could possibly be. I won't get into what all those plans are but what I will say is I am so glad you are here. There were times last year that I didn't know whether I would see you or not. Life was grueling, I gained and lost love, made some stupid and selfish decisions, and learned some great lessons by the end of the year that I would do well not to repeat.

Nevertheless...

I am glad you are here.

I am not going to start out demanding that you give me anything this year. I plan instead to give you me...more of my time and talent, more of my heartfelt attention, and I definitely don't plan on wasting you, since now I am aware more than ever that life is so precious.

This year, God willing, I will be 35.

This year, God willing, my 3rd book will be coming out and my 4th book will be well on its way.

This year, God willing, I will start an Etsy site so I can sell paintings, drawings, and pottery online.

This year, I will be grateful for every day instead of treating each day like a repeat of the last.

2012...I am so glad we have been formally introduced, since we have never met before. I am honored to be with you, to see you, to get to know you. Let's ride!

Anyhoodle

It is amazing how the best made plans can be changed in a matter of moments. I am still in the same boring town I have been for nearly 7 years and yet, the best job I have ever had is here. To be honest, I think it would be extremely dumb on my part to leave a location simply because I don't like it and give up a job that pays me more than I've ever made. And I have never in my life been called dumb....so here I am. I guess the best thing you can do in a predicament like mine is to make this thing work, start traveling more, have a vacay spot somewhere else I can run to when I've had enough of Podunk Po Ho as I call this pseudo-city.

SO I am making plans to go to Chicago, Atlanta, and possibly Savannah next summer. I am planning a cruise for next November. Not sure how all this will pan out but I am going to make the best of it.

Anyhoodle, I have also made some more changes (though not the henna tattoos and piercings I claimed I was going to get around my birthday). I am still not real clear on that yet but I have changed my hair (for the umpteenth time). It is now red in one area and a dark brown everywhere else. I also have it cut really short with designs cut into the back of my hair. I guess you can say people either really love it or really hate it or really don't understand what I am going through. Either way, this is the me that I waited to reveal until the job loved me too much to notice that I have changed my personae. Or else they just think I'm crazy and know that I am irreplaceable and they will put up with my fashion shenanigans in order to keep me as a good employee. Either way, I'm good.

And my hair is red.

And I look slightly rebellious.

And my midlife crisis has started early...

Anyhoodle...take it or leave it... :)

Six Teeth Gone and Other Interesting Antics

So I had oral surgery a couple weeks ago to correct some dental issues that I should have taken care of a long time ago. Six teeth - my four wisdom teeth, a baby tooth, and an adult tooth - all had to be removed. I am not good at taking care of myself as quite a few caring people in my life never fail to remind me, so when I recuperated at home, all I could think about was getting back to work. I probably need to get a life...and soon... I mean who lays on the couch doped up with pain meds semi-toothless, thinking about getting back to a 9 to 5 (or 6, in my case)? Only in Myowneworld, apparently...

I am planning my 34th birthday parties now (yes, parties)...a few weeks before the festivities start. I usually celebrate the whole month, every weekend. This year I have decided along with my adopted sister and best friend to have a lady's night in my home town. I hope everyone will come so we can celebrate in style. I am planning more than one party because I think birthdays are the very best way to show the world that you are worth celebrating. There is enough sadness in the world (I know from first hand experience, as of late) that I think we are all due for a little happiness every now and then. So, I'm getting my outfit ready because it's ON!

My nieces and nephews are embracing adulthood and I certainly don't feel as old as I probably should. I feel better! The jury is still out on whether I will one day have children of my own. These four have stolen the show, and I'm definitely not getting any younger. Maybe I'll just get another dog. And a boyfriend. Preferably a boyfriend that is not a dog and vice versa.

I have decided to get a henna tattoo and a couple new ear piercings. Perhaps my midlife crisis is coming early; perhaps I just think I would look cool. At least in my mind, I think I would be the coolest 34-year-old ever (which is a sure sign of a midlife crisis)...most people in this state of being think they are cool in their own eyesight. In everyone else's? Wellll...

Hmmm...we shall see, won't we?

Somebody's Getting Old (And It's Not Me)...

My youngest niece will be starting school at Western Michigan University in a few days and is in fact, in Kalamazoo getting ready to embrace a new season of her life. She has been through so much in her 18 years and now it is time to map her own existence. Now she can really live and pursue her dreams.

Time passes so quickly and before you know it the 5-year-old with long ringlets has turned into an 18-year-old with magnificent dreams and potential just waiting to be fulfilled. It is crazy that she would grow up right in front of my eyes. We have not always had the best of relationships but she is like the daughter I never had. She is the one who helps turn my hair gray. She is the one that gives me heart palpitations with every crazy, risky, rebellious antic she comes up with. But she is also the one that made me wipe tears from my eyes as she marched across Houseman Field in Grand Rapids, Michigan one warm June day.

I love my baby girl and see her no longer as a baby or a girl. I see her as the woman she is surely becoming. She makes me realize that I have made a positive impact and now its her turn to do the same.

It's crazy when your babies grow up. She is the first of my mother's grandchildren to attend a four year university. Her sister, my oldest niece, is also pursuing her education to make a better life for herself and her young kings. She is getting her CNA license and will care for others with that huge heart of hers. The pride I feel regarding them both cannot be compared to any other feeling I have ever had about anything as amazing as they are. My prayer is that they believe in themselves as much as I believe in them. I never want them to second guess the power of being who they were born to be.

They are beautifully intelligent young women, and I hope they become everything they are meant to be. One thing I know for sure: their grandmother's prayers keep them covered and my insistence that they never give up - no matter what life may bring - is what will keep them for many years to come. I also know that their great-grandparents that are witnessing what will come of their lives from heaven's grandstands are immensely overjoyed at all they will be able to accomplish if they work and pray hard enough (not necessarily in that order).

The generation they are growing up in is so fearless and sometimes reckless. I worry sometimes about my babies but I know that they will be okay.

I do, however, hate their tongue rings (which explains why they stuck their tongues out while taking the picture). They have become professional Auntie annoyers...but that's okay too. They are mine and I love them more than they can ever know. My life wouldn't be what it is if they were not in it. :)

Long Time Gone and Now Back....

I guess you can say I went on Sabbatical for a while from life, after dealing with the pain of losing love. I had to take some time to really get my bearings and get refreshed. I now have a new lease on life and a new focus, as the man I love would want. It has not been an easy season but I realize that God has been taking care of me as I give Him my pain and the hurt I have felt. God has been a rich rewarder as I have sought His face. I have actually shut down a few things in my life but now I am ready to return to life as I knew it with a tenacious plan for life.

I am not worried about the things that used to rack my brain because I realize that God is taking care of every little need in my life. I am not worried about life because my life is in His hands. I used to be overly concerned about money, my writing, my publishing books, and relationships in my family. But God has truly taken care of everything when I was on Sabbatical from life letting the grief process do what it had to in my heart.

I am the type of person that has for the most part tried to take care of others at the sacrifice of myself, but for the first time in my life, I have taken care of myself and have taken time that I needed to in order to become the woman I have to be in this hour.

I do miss the man that won my heart in his last days on earth. Yet, I feel his presence in my life, just as surely as I feel the presence of God in my life. He is gone in the body but not in the spirit, and I can move on in life, starting and finishing the work God has declared I must do before it is time for me to "go to God" (as my nephew said at 5 years old when asked what he would do if he were invisible). The reality is I'm supposed to miss his hugs, his smile, the way he stared into my eyes, and loved me silently. I am supposed to struggle sometimes with his absence. This is no coincidence and this is no surprise. He was the man I wanted to marry and now he's physically absent from the wedding.

But I process and recognize the season for what it is, striving to teach others the lessons I too am learning - not to take life for granted and not to miss the chance God gives for love.

So...I am back to writing and art and living and loving. I am back...

A Lesson Learned

This has been the most life-changing time for me as I have watched the man I have loved secretly for so long battling for his life. I realize that if there is no other lesson to be learned, you should never, ever keep love a secret. You should always tell the people you care about and love how you feel. I can never get back the intimate moments that "my heart" and I shared over the last few weeks. I would never trade it.

But I do wish I had not been so scared and shy around him or him around me. I wish we had told each other instead of our best friends how we felt about each other. I wonder what would have happened if we had just told each other the truth.

I would have married him in a heartbeat.

I would have loved him like tomorrow wasn't promised.

I realize now, it really wasn't.

I would have loved him like tomorrow really didn't matter.

I realize now that it doesn't. All we have is today.

Today, about two hours ago, "my heart" went to be with Jesus. He left this earth. "My heart" is gone, as I posted on my Facebook status and as I told anyone that asked what was wrong.

I love Brian Nichols so very much and I had the chance to tell him, to look in his eyes and tell him before he could no longer respond to me. But how much better would it have been if I had told him when we could have done something about it? How much better would it have been for both of us if he could have done what he said he wanted to do?

He said he wanted to love me, to take care of me, to take care of all the things that make me sad, moody, depressed. He wanted to be my husband. He may have been the father of my children.

But now, on this snowy March day, I realize that he will never be able to do any of that. And I am so hurt. I feel like a woman that missed the only chance I ever had to be loved for real. I know that isn't true, but right now, in a way it is. I missed the chance to love Brian as his wife. The realistic view is that I can't go back and change time, but I can thank God for the moments when no one else was in the room and it was just me and him.

Thank you God that you graced me enough to be loved by such a great man.

Thank you.

Love Found, Love Lost (Almost)

Being in Port Huron has been anything but productive in the romance department. I think I have grown accustomed to not having anyone in my life so I have no idea when love will ever come my way. I have had crushes, have fallen in and out of love with a man that I still think about from time to time, and have ignored others who, for whatever reason or another, have turned me ALL the way off.

But there was always one guy. There was always one man that I looked for at my godparents' church. He made me blush even when he simply looked my way. I stuttered in front of him and sometimes watched in silence as he happened across my path. My heart would beat fast when he would say something to me; a "hi" or a "how are you?" would send me nearly into heart palpitations.

I never once suspected that he felt anything for me at all.

Until now.

Until the day I realized that he may never cross my path again and all we have is right now, this moment.

Until the news was reported that cancer had once again invaded his body, after getting a somewhat clean bill of health.

I have gone to see him everyday, with just the thought in mind that even if nothing could ever be, I would let him know that he is loved. I visit him everyday, sitting near him, napping in his room at my godmother's home where he is now staying. My godfamily, his late brother and sister-in-law, are the family I have loved for 14 years. And now, I am able to say that at least for seven of those years I have loved him.

His best friend reported to this family that he could see me as the woman he wanted to marry, a woman that he could love because of my passion and love for family, a woman that is educated and driven and focused, a woman unlike the others that have crossed his path. All this time I did not know he loved me like I have loved him all this time.

And now it feels like it is too late for us. What if I was meant to be his wife? What if cancer interrupted something so amazingly beautiful that neither one of us were aware could happen? What if he leaves me tomorrow and I never had a chance to hold his hand while we walked on the RiverWalk in downtown Detroit? What if I never had a chance to kiss his lips or hug him close when he felt most lonely? What if I never get the chance to wear a wedding dress and walk down an aisle toward him?

How will my heart break anew?

I thought I knew what it felt to be hurt or disappointed by past boyfriends or men I thought were made for me to grow old with. But this hurt, this disappointment is unlike anything I have ever, ever experienced.

Love was found during the same time that love could potentially be lost.

Moving, Moving, Moving

I think I move like every two to three years. I don't know if it is because I hate staying in the same environment for too long. It isn't like I am tied down to any house or apartment so I take full advantage of living in a different location. I also wonder if it is because I am single and have the freedom to move whenever I get the whim. I think if I had a family I wouldn't be so quick to move all the time. Sometimes I feel like a twenty-something again, when I wasn't sure where I wanted to be at any given moment.

This is my last weekend in my current house, and while I will miss certain aspects of being in it, I won't miss the bills. Renting a house is like paying someone else's mortgage with no benefit. So I am lowering my payments and planning to travel more - starting as soon as next weekend. My godsister and I are going to Chicago for the weekend. It has been a long time since I have been in the Windy City. So I am looking forward to it. This will be my first leisure trip this year, and I am excited.

New life, new start, and it starts with moving to a new location. Life is good.

I have completed my first year as a foster care worker, and I am realizing everyday that while God has called me to impact families, I have an obligation to myself as well. I have an obligation to have a life. I need to make a life for myself, and I believe that I am well on my way to that. I am learning that I must have balance or I will be burnt out before my second year ends. I certainly don't want that. I know I am not going to be working in this same field for 30 years, but I do want to make a major impact for the time I am here I do want to fulfill my call and the only way I can do that is to be balanced.

So I am preparing to travel to Grand Rapids every weekend that I can to attend my church there. I have taken days off from work in April to attend a spiritual retreat with my church. I am planning a trip to Chicago for the weekend of July
4th/The Taste of Chicago Festival. I am also planning to go to Atlanta to visit my brother (getting on an airplane again, since I've only flown twice before). I also want to travel to Savannah, Georgia at some point this year (maybe for my birthday).

I have always wanted the liberty to travel and move around with no limits. Well this job has afforded me the opportunity to do that, so I need to take advantage of that. Life is too short to be off-balance in any area...especially when you give so much of yourself. So while I am planning to be my best in the lives of others, I am planning to give myself my best as well.

New Year, New Decade

2010 is ending, 2011 is beginning. A decade is ending. A new one is just hours away. I am sitting here wondering what this new one will bring. One thing I know is that I need change in my life. I need to embrace new steps, new places, new people, and stop resigning myself for what I allowed myself to grow accustomed to. This is a hard revelation for me. I've grown accustomed to the monotony of daily life, work, relationships, environments. But I know God has never allowed me to stay in the same place for too long or life would inevitably get stale. He doesn't even like a stale or lukewarm approach to life.

So now, I am wondering what this new decade will bring. I would like to speak in faith and say it will bring marriage, children, new positions of leadership, more book publication, speaking engagements, opportunities to do art again. I would like to say that it will bring a new mindset and outlook. Most likely it will. But I am erring on the side of caution because I do not want to be disappointed or to feel that I have been facetious in speaking.

But I also know that if I do not say what I want, I will not get what I want. If I do not make an effort to speak into my own future, life will just happen to me. I do not want to be a passive participant in life. It is far too short for that. I want to be emboldened and passionate about the life I have been blessed to have. So I am entering this new decade with the understanding that I need to be involved in the progression of my own life. I have to agree with what God says about me. And I have to live like I agree with God and like I agree with myself.

So I welcome in this new year and new decade with a purposed passion, a purposed intent to live as I know to live. I am determined to indicate to God and myself what I know is best for me instead of being silent about the life He has given. I am entering in soberminded but excited, content but waiting for more.

Heart Issues

The morning of Thanksgiving Eve, my oldest sister lost her son in a tragic car accident. He was hit by a car while crossing a major street in Grand Rapids, Michigan. There are few words that can express how heartbroken she is, her family is, I am. I have a pain in my heart that I cannot even begin to describe to anyone else and it makes it hard to even know what to say to her. But I hope beyond hope that his death will not be in vain. I hope beyond hope that he is in heaven, looking down on us with the full knowledge that he is loved here too. And he will be forever missed here on earth.

Heaven

This time of year, I am sure a lot of people think about family, friends, food, and fun. This time of year I tend to think more about Heaven and being there and the people I love that are there. I think about the closeness of Heaven, the love of Heaven, and what it all means to live in the Presence of God. The grandparents and father figures, the children and the cousins that I believe are there experiencing the fullness of God's Presence are all on my mind during this time of year. I don't think of them in a sad way. I think of them in a way that reminds me that one day, the beauty of this time of year will be experienced for all eternity. The continuity and family that this time of year means for so many will be an eternal moment, one day. We will always be aware of God's Presence and the sacrifice of His Son. We will be able to celebrate Christ in a way that we have only touched on here. We will be able to love in a way that can be so fleeting here on earth. I feel Heaven more during this time of year than any other time - perhaps for what it symbolizes. We remember the heartbeat of God more, I think. We remember the love and faith and famiy This is what God desires for us to do year round, but we miss the moment collectively until Thanksgiving and Christmas. God draws near when we draw near those we love. That is why I believe the Sabbath (Sunday, for most) is so important. For that one time during the week, many unite in faith to remember the dictates of faith (even if it is shortlived, even if by Monday, we forget everything we learned the day before, even if the worship we fetlt in our hearts begins to dissipate 24 hours later). In that moment God draws near because we remember what we were put on earth for.

Hmmm...

Soooo...basically, my hard words turned a good relationship into a strained one. But I still don't regret telling the truth. I hope one day to have my sister back but for now, I wrestle with having to live without her. I gravitate between deleting her out of my life and leaving the door open. Really it's her choice. I hope she makes the right one.

It sucks having to be fake with people in order to keep a relationship going. So I decided not to do that anymore. I decided that in order to be for real, sometimes people have to be told the truth about a situation.

Hard Words

A week ago I had to tell someone something that could potentially hurt for eons. I had waited for a long, long time to break the news to her that something in the past may still be existing under the surface in the heart of someone she loves. Then I wondered if I had done the wrong thing because what if I lose her? What if I lose the one person on this earth that has known me and loved me anyway and isn't entirely related to me? What if telling the secret is the most unfair thing I could have ever done?

I second guessed myself all week, not texting her, not calling her after it was all said and done. I wondered if her marriage falling apart would be my fault because I didn't keep the secret.

So what do you do when you love someone and you know something that could break their hearts into a million tiny pieces?

She told her sister later that she wished she didn't know; she wished I hadn't told her.

And now...there is this impenetrable silence from her. I do not know if believing the truth must be told is enough anymore. It does cost a lot to tell the truth. Nobody ever tells you that when you are learning the difference between the truth and lies. Certain truths are costly. The truth Jesus died for on the cross was costly and every day those who are followers and believers have to die their own private deaths for the same cause.

I have wrestled with telling the truth but at the end of the day, even if it means losing someone to the winds of change, I'd rather tell it than sit in silence and watch them be betrayed. I can't live with knowing someone is being lied to over and over.

But still...sometimes I wish I could bury my head in the sand.

Stranger than Fiction

I finished my first novel about two years ago and have recently felt the urgency to return to it. I've looked at it briefly over the last few weeks, just merely glanced at it, but now I feel like since I have published my memoir, it is time to bring forth the fiction. I am not a genre writer. I do not stick with poetry or creative nonfiction or fiction. I kind of just go with the flow and entertain the muse, whatever it may be.

I have two novels - this first one, We Run From Ourselves - and a new one just in the first stages gestationally. It is called, We Have Our Reasons. Both books cycle around a persistent theme, the same theme as in the memoir I published in April: the absence of parents and what that does to us individually and as a collective whole. The absence creates a vaccuum and everything in life that we could ever deal with gets sucked into us, without the filtering that parents bring. I am not sure why this theme haunts me beyond my own persistent issues with the absence of my father. That seems so exclusively personal. But it does and I see it everywhere.

But if I am praying to be a better writer, I have to dissect those personal issues and decide how much of those areas need to be surfaced in my writing. I study the craft of writing and why some writers stay as closet writers and why others take a huge role in our literary development as humans that crave story and a witness to what we all go through as humans. One thing that seems evident is that writers that draw from their own experience as part of the human race and also from the truth of what it means to be a part of that race become voices for what none of us are always so brave to say on our own. Truthfully, I seek to be that kind of writer.

I may not understand why I feel God has called me to this theme in my writing, but I know that the truth of story and experience is multi-faceted and multi-layered. It is always so much deeper than the visceral evidence of pain. We dig deeper because we do indeed have our reasons.

So today, I am working both manuscripts - reimaging one, leaving it, going to the new one, and back again. And although it is a little like reopening wounds, I am glad to be here, fingers on the keyboard, characters speaking in my ear, words transcribed on page, breathing.

33 Years, Time for a Change

I turned 33 on Monday, and enjoyed every bit of my birthday weekend with my sisters. It was a great time to be had by all and I am now grateful that God has blessed me to live another year. I want so many things for myself, but I received a great revelation the other day. I realized that while I am praying for God to send me a husband, praying that God bless me financially, praying that I become an even better writer, I have been seeking God the wrong way. It's not that what I was asking for was wrong per se. I just wasn't asking for them the right way. I was being much too selfish regarding these areas.

Instead of praying for God to send me a husband, I need to be praying FOR my husband. I know God has promised that I would have a family of my own. He has promised me that since I was a little girl. I know it is going to happen, so instead of praying in doubt, I am going to pray like my husband is standing right here in front of me. I am going to pray for him like I already know him and we are well acquainted. I am going to pray for his health, spiritual walk with Christ, pray for him as he faces challenges on a daily basis, pray his strength in God. I am going to pray that God bless his hands and everything he endeavors to do. I am going to pray for his dreams, his goals, his aspirations. I am going to pray that he fulfill everything God has mandated him to do in this life. I am going to pray that he become a great husband and father. I am not going to pray for him to come; I am going to pray FOR him.

Instead of praying that God bless me financially so I can do everything in my heart, I am going to learn how to give more, sowing into fertile ground. I am going to give and pour out of myself into the lives of the people around me. I am going to invest my time, energy, and even money into the places where lives can be impacted - both in church and outside of the four walls.

Instead of praying that I become an even better writer, I am praying that God use my words to impact a nation. I am asking God to use the talent that He has given me to influence many, many people - even when my body is decaying and my spirit has gone on to be with Him. Words transcend time, space, physical limitations. Words are life (or death - depending on how you use them).

I haven't been praying the right prayers. It isn't a way to manipulate God. It is a means to change my focus and change the impact of my prayer life. It is NOT all about me. It is NOT all about MY husband (he has his own life to live, now and after we are married), MY money (it has a life of its own as well), and MY books (they have the power to impact lives if I let God use me beyond even those lives I have the liberty to bear witness to).

So now it's time to change the way I pray...

At 33, it took me a whole lifetime to realize this.

October Sky

It is October already and I have to settle myself in the fact that summer is truly over now. I didn't get outside as much as I thought I would, but I do love fall too. I am not looking forward to snow, but I know that it is part of the process and each season brings with it something to appreciate.

I am going to be 33 in a week. That too is hard to swallow. I am so grateful for life and am looking forward to what this year will bring for me. I am believing God that I will meet the man meant for me, that I will truly be happy and settled in my spirit about some things I have been seeking God for. But more, I am believing that I will continue to make a difference in the lives of the people God has sent me to impact.

One of the assignments my pastor has asked us to complete by next Sunday (10/10/10) is to list the things that we want to improve upon in our lives, that we want to be better in, the areas where we want to successfully complete some things. I listed most areas that are common to us all: relationships with God and people, my careers (writing, art, and social work), my finances, and also living totally as the woman God intends me to be (not under the constraints that others may put upon me). I have come a long way and want to go further.

So much has changed in my life and in the lives of others around me. I see those changes but also know that I need to fulfill the destiny I am called to fulfill. Now is the time to fulfill some things for myself. I have strived to help others fulfill and complete their assignments. Now is the time to complete some things myself.

The October Sky is full of possibilities. I am turning a new age this month, entering a new season in my life at this time. And I am excited.

It has been a long time since I have been excited about my own life.

Love Story: Marvin and MaLinda Sapp

Today I went to the Homegoing Celebration for Dr. MaLinda Sapp, wife of Pastor/Psalmist Dr. Marvin Sapp. It was rather close for comfort, as I recalled what it felt like to sit in the front of the service for my godfather Apostle William Nichols.

What I realize more than anything else today is no matter what - no matter the length of time it takes, there is a culmination. Love never dies...

Even though we cannot see those who have gone on before, we (Believers in Christ) know that as sure as we believe in God and know He is real and exists, those we cannot hold close are not so far away. There is no distance in the spirit. I learned a little about a real love story today...a love story very similar to my godparents' story. And now I know what to pray for.

I am not just going to pray to be married. I am going to pray that God would grace me with a real live love story of my own.

Three things I learned today:
(1) Dr. MaLinda loved her husband deeply. She knew she would have to go and her first and last thought was for him and their beautiful children.

(2) Dr. MaLinda was a great mother. Her daughter Mikaila told her friend last week, "My mom was my best friend." How many children and teens can say that today? Her son Marvin II was completely speechless at the funeral when it was time for him to say something to the audience. And her baby girl, Madisson, asked the best question of all on the way to the service when she saw all the signs for the funeral (likely the funeral flags placed on the cars). She asked, "Why do all the signs say funeral? This is a celebration!" One thing I cry for even now is that these babies miss their mom.

(3) I have a giant in the faith to map my life after, besides my mother and my godmother.

Her name is MaLinda Prince Sapp.

Heartbroken

Yesterday,one of my she-roes passed from this world into the arms of our Heavenly Father. I admired Dr. MaLinda Sapp so much and being from Grand Rapids, Michigan, I had great respect for the work she and her husband were doing in my hometown. There are not very many people that are from my city that come back and pay it forward. They could have lived anywhere, but they decided to live in Grand Rapids.

Mrs. Sapp passed away yesterday morning from complications surrounding her battle with colon cancer. It is still hard for me to believe someone so vibrant and young could have a disease so deadly. Often medical professionals tell women in our age group not to worry about breast cancer, colon cancer, and any number of terminal illnesses until we get older. But lately so many women I know personally have been diagnosed with illnesses that middle-aged women even ten to twenty years ago rarely battled.

That doesn't mean a whole lot to me today.

Dr. MaLinda was only 43.

And my city, the people I know, the neighborhoods where we both grew up, the parishioners that attended Lighthouse (the church she and her husband, Pastor Dr. Marvin Sapp shepherded) are reeling from the loss of such a beautiful woman. Her children will enter adulthood without their mommy. Her husband is lost without the bone of his bone and the flesh of his flesh.

Please pray...

Inspiration in a Place That Lacks It

I am eight months into my new job as a foster care worker and I have never felt like I was making as much of an impact on people's lives as I am right now. I don't know if I will do this forever, but I know that my present employment situation is doing more than lining my pockets. I enjoy what I do, which every time I tell another person in the same department, they tell me I haven't been there long enough.

I never really respond to the negativity because, truth be told, I didn't enter this job haphazardly. I knew it would require much more than any job I've had before. I knew it would kill my pride. I knew I would be challenged. But one thing can be said about me - I never back down from a challenge. I might step back and take a better look, but I will never run from a challenge so long as God has my back.

I don't really interact with a lot of other people at work, either. At first, I felt bad about that. But now, I realize that many of the women (mainly women) I work with either (a) don't like me, (b) have their own things going on (cliques and whatnot) or (c) are too nosy about my affairs. I keep my distance from naysayers, and I do my job to the best of my ability. That's what I do to keep myself inspired every day. And I keep my fire lit - the fire on the inside that reminds me of the passion I had burning on the inside when I applied for this job.

I'm not perfect at what I do, but I am passionate. If nothing else, that is what keeps me walking in the door everyday.

What about you?

Preparing for September

Thanks FullComplexity for the comment. You made me realize that I need to keep up on what used to be really important to me.

I have taken way too much time away from my writing on here (again). Life is happening way too fast for me to keep up, quite honestly. At the same time, I know that I cannot escape from who I am as a writer, artist, lover of books, lover of art.

The long and short of my life right now is that I am working hard at my job, building rapport with my families, loving the kids that have such difficult beginnings, and being better at what I believe God has called me to do. I struggle at times with having enough time in the day to be a SuperHero. But at the end of the day, I celebrate the fact that I am still me and I don't have to be a SuperHero. I can just be Myama Myowne and that is enough, for now.

In a month's time, other things have changed.

The guy I met disappeared back into the crazy world where I found him (or to be more exact, where I bumped into him). He wasn't the simple man I thought I wanted. He was way more complex than I realized, more layered than I care to deal with right now, more of a mystery than I desired to figure out. And the truth is the older I get, the less I like complex. Complex in his sense of being was annoying and wierd and not at all what I need. So he has melted back into anonymity. And to be honest, it is better that way.

My book sales for all intents and purposes are at a standstill, though I could be wrong. Haven't got the first royalty statements from Amazon.com yet. I haven't had any engagements yet and I haven't had a chance to do much marketing but I am hoping that I will be able to do more in another month or so. I am proud of the book, but I realize that I am not a marketing agent and am struggling with getting the book in the right hands.

Any ideas???

For now I am back...ready to jump full-fledged into Myowneworld. And life is still crazy. My prayer is that I will gain the necessary balance to be a part of it, fully there. Starting in September, I am hoping to post more interesting tidbits from my hectic life at least twice a week. I feel better already...

Way Too Long...

I haven't posted on here in eons and I should be spanked for that. I have been so busy at work and publishing the book that I haven't been writing on here or anywhere else. Please forgive me for being so lazy.

I have so much to tell since my last post. I had my first book release party and signing and am hoping for many, many more. That was just an opportunity to see if I could do it and it worked out just fine. I didn't have a plethora of attendants but it was great being in an intimate setting with people that care so much about my dreams.

My job is going well and I am building my caseload. It is so much to remember for each case that I think I need to take some vitamins or something, but I am glad that I am in the trenches, doing the hard work of repairing families (or at least trying to). I do feel a bit lonely at work but with so much to do, I don't have a lot of time for fraternizing anyway.

I have met a really nice guy who is slowly stealing my heart. I of course don't want to rush anything with any of these things but I don't want to deny myself the pleasure of caring about someone and something bigger than myself.

Honestly, life is good. Things are constantly changing around me before I know what to do about any of it.

I have left the church I attended in my city of residence, and although that was hard and my relationship with my godmother has become distant (it's not like it hadn't become that anyway), I am so glad I stepped out in faith. It's so important to be where you are supposed to be even at the risk of changing your entire life.

That's where I am right now.

And now, we are in the midst of summer's warmth and new beginnings and love. That is the way life should be.

Father to the Fatherless

My book is in the final stages of production through Xlibris Publishing. I chose to self-publish rather than wait and wait for a publisher to pick it up. I had sent the book to various publishers two years ago and had some positive responses. However, because of the economy no one wanted to take a risk on an unknown author, no matter how good the concept or how good the read.

So?

I took a risk on myself - invested my own money in the project, marketed the book before it was even out amongst friends, family, and co-workers. I am not looking to be at the top of the New York Times Bestseller list (though that would be nice). I am not even looking for reviews in literary magazines.

I have a message that I believe God wants me to say to this present generation, and no editor at a publishing company can dictate when that message should get out. I know that mainstream publishing is the way to go if you want to make a name for yourself. But right now, that is NOT the most important message I want to send. Lots of people de-bunk self publishing, but I happen to believe that if you have worked for years on a project you believe in, you put your money where your mouth is and push that thing out for yourself. You don't wait on anybody and you don't hide behind the mantra that you wrote the book simply for the work's sake.

That is admirable but it wouldn't be true. I think it is better to be truthful with yourself - especially as a creative person. If you are writing, painting, singing, acting, and sculpting just for the work's sake, then wonderful and keep at it because it is accomplishing the purpose meant for it. But if you are opening a vein and pouring out of yourself, then be real about that too. If you intend for your work to reach an audience, drive it there yourself. Wait for no man to affirm your gift; affirm yourself and others will follow.

It would be a horrible thing to put that manuscript in a box under my bed because the publishing companies that could publish it don't think it's worth the risk. I happen to believe I and my book am worth the risk, so I will handle the business of getting my book into the right hands myself. If I don't believe in me, who else will?

The book should hopefully be released and available for purchase by the middle of May. Stay tuned!

Moving on...Momentum

I am in a constant state of motion (it seems). My life is moving so fast that sometimes I can't keep up with it. I am ready to publish my next book, getting more acclimated to my job, and getting ready to change churches, I am wondering how all things are taking place without my being able to contemplate my next move. This is so unlike me. I still battle with loneliness and depression but it's like I can't even focus on what's going in my head when those feelings hit me. God is moving beyond my expectations and sometimes it gets scary. But I'm here and am hurtling toward destiny.

It's March already and I have been so behind in my posting on here, but I am determined to stay on top of my writing. So basically I am back to being me again now that I am regaining my footing.

New Year, New Challenges

It has been a crazy start to a new year for me, with a new job, my godmother's surgery, having to make the decision to send the girls back to their home county, and getting ready to publish my books. But I have to remember as with anything else that I can't do anything without God, no matter how I may try (because to be truthful, we all do, and then we end up looking foolish). So everyday, I start out acknowledging that I need Him more than I need anything or anyone else. When you are young and have no limitations, the temptation is to think you can live life without God's intervention and without seeking His face for everything. I have been guilty of that, but I feel that urgency to pray, to rekindle the relationship I had with Him at the start, and return to my first love. God is my first love and sometimes, stupidly, I try to seek another when I know that there is no one else that could ever love me like Him.

So, now, once again...I start over...

Frustration and Stress and then...PEACE...

Peace is not the absence of war. It is the embrace of the Prince of Peace in the midst of war.

I am learning that everyday now, as I wrestle with my emotions about the situation my family is in right now. I think of the Scripture I read this morning before beginning my day today:

John 14:27 (Amplified Version) "Peace I leave with you; My [own] peace I now give and bequeath to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. [Stop allowing yourselves to be agitated and disturbed; and do not permit yourselves to be fearful and intimidated and cowardly and unsettled.]"

I read this with new eyes, as if the familiarity was no longer the blindfold that had shielded my eyes each time I had read it before. I read it while a soft whisper resounding in my ear assured me that Christ was in the room with me, as I swallowed the words.

I can choose to accept the peace that Christ gives. He gives it to me freely, but I have to reach out my hand to take it. I can refuse it and try to remedy situations like the ones I am facing now, as my niece and her sisters' lives hang in the balance, precariously. I can try to block out my emotions by listening to music that does not feed my achey soul and instead feeds my lust for a carnal distraction. I can try to be a stoic, mature person whom is not touched by the reality that the children in my life are depending on me to pray for them and instead choose to hope for the best instead of lifting them up.

Or...I can grab hold to this Word and say, "I choose Peace."

I choose Christ's peace today. I choose to trust Christ when He says His peace is not like the world's peace because that peace has never been a sustaining, perpetual peace. It has been fleeting and momentarily fulfilling. Then it disappears. Like it did yesterday when I stalked around my house like a raging lunatic, shouting out my defiance and declarations.

I choose to believe that Christ's peace is more than alcohol, boyfriends, food, shopping, and even the distraction of work. It is that which stays with me in the night when there is nothing else to do and no one else to take my focus.

I will stop allowing myself to be agitated and angry and a cursing Peter. I stop allowing myself to become unsettled, fearful, intimidated, cowardly...disturbed. I do not want to be a disturbed individual. No one wants to be around disturbed individuals.

I choose to accept Christ's peace today.

When Someone Says Thank You

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday (as can be seen from the silly picture above) with my family, my "children" and my mom. There were no tears shed, there were no arguments. There was only good food, laughter, movies, and the sound of children talking and playing in the house. For me that is what is most important about the holidays. My mom and I are establishing our own traditions, mirroring the traditions we had in yesteryear when my grandparents were still alive and I was a little girl.

Last night as I talked with my 18-year-old niece, I realized that some things have to remain as a legacy. Family must be a present reality in the lives of the children that are growing up in our home. There is so much missing and I refuse to miss the tiny powerful mmoments of love that they need today. I want my grandparents legacy of family to live on when I am gone too.

My niece told me last night that she appreciates my mom and I so much for being there for her, even though her parents did not. Her mother and father seem to hate the presence of family so much that they tried to convince her that the only way to make it through life was independently, unattached, "on your own." But we have tried so hard to show her that everybody needs somebody, and family must be constant. True love starts there.

She said to me, "Thank you, Auntie Mya." Tears filled my eyes as I remembered the bullets shot through my heart when her mother tried to separate us from her for some crazy reason, and I fought to stay (even on the fringes of her life) because I loved her so very deeply. I remembered the arrows my own brother had shot through my soul out of selfish ambition and hatred. I felt the wounds still somewhat fresh from the last battle I had waged against him when it came down to telling my story in "Father to the Fatherless."

And I knew then that the warfare, the battle for her heart, her soul, her future was and still is worth it. She left me with these words:

"I don't know how I make it through each day; I don't know how I do what I do. I just do. I don't even remember yesterday. All I see is my future."

My 18-year-old baby is a mother to a 2-year-old curly haired boy, who understands far more than I ever imagined what family means - even when neither of her parents are there to teach her. I see her future too, and I am excited for her as well.

Finding Art in the Foreign Soil of Life

Reading Leeana Tankersley's new book, Found Art, was reading the internal map of a woman whose life is in a constant place of discovery. Some discoveries are beautiful, immortal; others speak of the hurt and despair of this world that highlight the enormity of our mortality. As a woman married to a United States serviceman, her life became something far more than what she could have ever imagined it would be, when she said "I do." It became more than a mission of living a new combined life with a husband and a newly constructed household. It became a purpose she had to accomplish within herself, a world she had to be introduced to, a way of finding the art lying hidden beneath the surface.

Change is never easy.

The foreign soil of a life utterly uprooted and changed time and again tested Leeana to the breaking point at times. But the reality that she had to accept and the lesson her writing teaches anyone who reads her book is that the truest sign of that acceptance is the ability to appreciate the beauty in the most foreign of places, in the most strange circumstances which call upon all of us to reach for God even in the most unconventional of ways. God exists in the unfamiliar as much as the familiar. God's peace can exist even when our lives are anything but peaceful.

The precious emblems of life, the art that we find in the ruins of life, are the very tokens of belief that we all need to push forward when God requires so much more than we believe we can give. This what Leeana's book is about - the finding of those moments, those emblems, those irreplaceable artifacts of life that point to God's enormous grace in the face of life's challenges. This is her story, uniquely hers and uniquely powerful as all testimonies are, but it is also her permission to us all - to live with our eyes, our heart, our minds wide open even when we are afraid to do so.

Book Reviews: Trying This Again

I tried to start doing this last year when I began this blog but never quite got the hang of reviewing books as I said I would do. So I am going to start this endeavor again, choosing a book off "Myowne Bookshelf" to review. The first book I have selected to review is "Found Art" by Leeana Tankersley who is a friend of a writer that I have connected with after attending the Calvin College Festival of Faith and Writing almost two years ago (Shauna Niequist, whose blog is listed below). Stay tuned to a future post that will review her book.